


i'll be yours someday

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Divorce, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: When Lance Hunter wakes up in a hospital bed, the last person he expects to see beside him is his ex-wife.But she won't leave.





	i'll be yours someday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vvalormorghouliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvalormorghouliss/gifts).



Waking up in a hospital bed is not a new experience for Lance Hunter. He’s been to the hospital before- more times than he can count on both hands - since it’s an occupational hazard, but it’s been a while. Not because he hasn’t been doing anything that will land him in the hospital, but because Hunter is a self-proclaimed idiot and would rather patch himself up than go through the hassle of going to see a real doctor. They’re too damn expensive, and paper trails make him nervous.

There’s still the question of _why_ he’s in the hospital bed. He blinks against the fluorescent lights, cataloging the pain in his body. It’s a quick catalog: fucking _everything_ hurts, especially his head. Nothing seems broken, but he’s certain he’s a patchwork of black and blue. Hunter shifts slightly, pressing his lips together as he feels the familiar sensation of stitches tugging along the left side of his ribcage.

“Hi.” His head whips to the side at the sound of the familiar voice. Bobbi straightens under his scrutiny, her features schooled into the neutral mask he came to know and hate during their marriage.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hunter bites out. His voice rattles in his chest, and before he knows it Hunter’s coughing uncontrollably. He forces himself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain that lances through him at the motion. Being upright at least means that he can get his breathing under control. He squeezes his eyes shut, teardrops beading on his lashes as he wheezes. The familiar weight of Bobbi’s palm lands between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow, smooth circles into his upper back.

“You okay?” she asks when he’s finally caught his breath.

Hunter jerks his head in a nod. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Bobbi sighs, rolling her eyes at him and removing her hand from his back. “I’m still listed as your emergency medical contact.”

“Shit.” He hadn’t thought to change that when the divorce was finalized. Hell, he’s not entirely sure who he’s going to change it to. Maybe he can beg Izzy to be responsible for his sorry ass.

“It’s fine,” Bobbi tells him.

“Well, you can go now,” Hunter says dismissively. “I’m awake and I’m sound of mind, so I can make my own medical decisions.”

“Not likely, babe.” Hunter’s eyes narrow at the pet name. “You’re going to be on bed rest for at least a week.” Hunter gestures with his hand, an invitation for Bobbi to explain what that has to do with her not leaving. “Someone has to look after you, dumbass,” she finishes.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Bob, you divorced me.” His voice is flat. “That means that you leave me the fuck alone, yeah?” Hunter’s still trying to figure out who he is without Bobbi, and having her just waltz back into his life again, without warning or permission, is something he can’t handle right now.

He can’t handle seeing how absolutely _fine_ she is, when he is a wreck in every sense of the word. Before he had just been an emotional and mental wreck, but now he’s got the trifecta - and he still can’t quite remember what he was doing before he was in the hospital.

“We’re divorced, but that doesn’t mean that I want you to kill yourself because you can’t sit still unless you’re handcuffed to something,” Bobbi says, her voice gaining the dangerous edge that means she’s gearing up to yell at him.

“I have what, twenty stitches?” Hunter’s guessing based on the amount of tugging on his skin. “And a shitton of bruises. I’m not going to die from that.”

Bobbi blows out an angry breath. “It’s a lot more than twenty stitches.” She doesn’t offer any more information than that.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Jesus, Lance.” Bobbi rakes her hand through her hair. “Why am I even trying?” She asks, more to herself than him, Hunter suspects. “You’re not going to listen to me, anyways.”

“Yes, you’re quite fond of reminding me how bad my listening skills are. Shall we list my other flaws, too? I do recall you saying -”

“Do you ever shut up?” Bobbi cuts him off. “Seriously, I abandon my mission to come sit by your bedside, and all I get is you whining.”

“I told you, you can _leave_.” He thrusts his hand towards the door, doubling over and grunting in pain as his side screams at the sudden motion.

“I’m not leaving, asshole.” Bobbi’s voice is softer than before, and her hand appears on his back again. Hunter desperately wants to flinch away, or shove her hand off of him, but Bobbi makes him feel better. It’s an inconvenient truth.

“You shouldn’t have left your mission for me,” he mumbles. Hunter wants to snap about all the times he had asked her to leave and she hadn’t, but he just can’t summon the energy.

Bobbi cracks a smile. “It was boring, anyways. You did me a favor.” Her hand slides up his neck and into his hair, her fingers pressing lightly into his scalp as she begins drawing tiny circles into his skin.

“Sure Fury’s just delighted with me right about now,” Hunter says. S.H.I.E.L.D. is by far not his favorite thing to talk about, but it seems like right now it’s the best topic. At least they’re not yelling.

“Oh, he was livid,” Bobbi agrees. “ _Morse, you can’t just go running off because your ex-husband got himself shot_.” She deepens her voice into a rough approximation of the director’s, and Hunter chuckles before realizing that laughing hurts.

“He said the same thing before I was your ex,” Hunter reminisces, rolling his eyes. “I’m beginning to think that none of your coworkers ever liked me, Bob.”

“Most of them didn’t,” she laughs. “But I do. Did,” Bobbi corrects herself quickly. She sighs. “Do.”

Hunter looks over at her curiously.

“Don’t give me that.” Bobbi averts her gaze, as if looking him in the eyes is somehow dangerous. “C’mon, Hunter. You have to realize that I don’t hate you.”

“I’m not sure how I would arrive at that conclusion, given your last words to me were ‘I hate you’,” he answers. “Followed by you throwing your wedding ring at my face, and then sending me divorce papers to sign.”

Bobbi flushes. “Okay. That’s fair.”

For a minute, there’s nothing other than the soft drone of the machines in the room. Hunter scoots over, patting the bed beside him. Bobbi’s spent the last few minutes standing so she can be closer to him, and he figures they might as well bite the bullet. Things between them always seem to end in a bed anyways.

Surprisingly, Bobbi doesn’t hesitate before climbing into the bed beside him, her arm wrapping easily around his shoulders as he nestles into her.

“I don’t hate you, Lance,” Bobbi whispers. “I’m just - I’m not good for you. And you’re not good for me.” His head lolls onto her shoulder, and she doesn’t protest. He wants to argue that it’s not true, but he knows that it is. They’re gasoline and a match, destined to burn themselves up and singe everyone around them in the process.

It sucks, because Hunter thinks that is it was just the two of them, they would gladly go up in flames for each other. But with other people on the line, Bobbi just _can’t_. It’s always been one of the things he’s admired about her, her ability to care about others. At the end of the day, believing in a higher power, a larger cause - that’s something that Lance _wishes_ he could do, and he respects the hell out of Bobbi for submitting herself so completely to the idea of the greater good. Even if that’s what killed their marriage, he has to admit it’s noble.

“I thought it would be easier, if you thought it was just hatred.” Bobbi takes his hand in hers, curling their fingers together as she speaks.

“That was stupid,” Hunter comments. Thinking Bobbi hated him hadn’t helped him one lick. It had just made his own feelings more confusing, because he wondered how he could still be so thoroughly devoted to someone who hated his guts.

“Yeah, it was.” Bobbi squeezes his hand. “Didn’t realize how stupid until I got the call you were hurt.”

Silence again. All Hunter can think is that she still cares. That’s a lot more than he had an hour ago.

“Maybe one day we’ll be good for each other,” Hunter says, hopeful. He’s in love with the right person, he’s sure, but maybe the timing was just wrong. Maybe, someday, they’ll be able to be something beautiful - a fire that warms instead of consumes.

“Maybe.” Bobbi doesn’t sound convinced.

He brings their joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. She stares down at the spot where he kissed her, eyes slightly glassy.

“Someday, Bob,” he promises. “Someday.”

Bobbi turns her head, leaning forward to fit her lips over his. The kiss is quick, barely a peck - it’s the smile that she gives when she pulls away that really makes his heart flutter.

“Someday.”

They don’t need to say that today is not that day. They don’t need to say that tomorrow is not guaranteed, that maybe they won’t get that day when they reunite, when things work out. They don’t need to say anything, but they know.

Somehow, the promise of someday is still enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for aosficnet2's midyear exchange, for [wowshesbriliant](https://wowshesbriliant.tumblr.com/).


End file.
